


Plus Ca Change

by goseaward



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam tried to be friends with all his exes.  Kris wasn't, strictly speaking, an ex, but after five years, a divorce, and seven platinum albums between them, Adam thought it might be time to try the friendship part again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus Ca Change

**Author's Note:**

> With many many thanks to amproof for the beta. Any remaining errors are my own.

"I'm turning thirty in June," Kris said.  "Big party, lots of people.  You should come."

Adam kept his eyes on the hors d'ouevres on his plate.  "You know how I feel about New York," he said.

"Come on.  I didn't get to celebrate yours."

"Nobody celebrated mine.  Danielle threw me a funeral instead."  He glanced up at Kris; Kris looked amused, but a little uncertain.  Even after all the time apart, all the time avoiding him, Adam could still read every expression that flickered across his face.  That more than anything else made up Adam's mind.  "Okay.  But this doesn't mean I approve of your rock and roll lifestyle."

Kris relaxed, and Adam could tell that too, from his face and from where their shoulders were lined up.  "Yeah, man.  Need somebody to keep me away from the booze and the coke."

"You've only made your way up to coke?"  Adam shook his head.  "I'll find somebody with some smack, then we'll really see what you're made of.  Or E?  E and some groupies?" Adam hoped that nobody else at this party was eavesdropping, but then again they'd probably just ask him to hook them up. Industry parties: not his favorite part of the music business.

"No groupies."  Kris scrunched his face. 

"I don't know," Adam said.  "I'm not sure _Rolling Stone_ will ever take you seriously without some sexual indiscretions in your past."

Kris froze.  "I guess I'm just..."  He laughed, shaking it off.  "You know, not totally cool with the casual sex thing yet."

"Hey.  Yeah.  Sorry."  Three years since the divorce and Kris still looked like it took him by surprise.  Adam held out his plate, and Kris snorted before grabbing some room-temperature cheese.  "It'll happen, don't worry."

Kris shrugged. "When I'm ready, I guess."

Damn it; he tried so hard, tried not to remember what it was like when he and Kris got together.  But it was always the same, the tough topics as easy as the small talk.  "Yeah.  I thought after Brad, maybe that was it, the best it would ever get.  But I was wrong.  You'll find somebody."

Kris nodded and grabbed another piece of cheese.

"So, New York in June, huh.  I'll give Drake a call, I'm sure he has some room on his couch."

"Man, you're gonna get me high and then leave me alone?"   Kris nudged Adam's shoulder with his own.  "Daniel's taking the guest room, but you can totally have my crappy pullout.  It'll be like old times."

"I never slept on your crappy pullout.  You didn't have one then, and I bet you don't have one now."

"I needed to experience the bachelor lifestyle," Kris said with a shrug.  "Crappy pullout, mini fridge with lots of beer, big-screen TV for football games."  
   
"That's where you want me to sleep?" Adam could hear the dubiousness in his own voice, and Kris laughed.

"I'm a big-time musician, remember?  It's a really _nice_ crappy pullout," he said.

Adam tried to figure out how much Kris was joking, but he really couldn't.  It was suddenly and unbearably sad, and Adam offered Kris another slice of cheese to cover the tightness in his throat.  The sensation of unfinished business with Kris didn't hit Adam very often, but when it did... Well, this was an opportunity to fix things, and Adam had never been one to miss an opportunity.

***

"There's a live music place down the street," Kris said.  "So we're going there tonight.  And then this diner I love in the morning--the best pancakes ever.  And we could do a museum or something, if you wanted to see the city, or else there's this little park around the corner--"

"You're scheduling our hanging out?" Adam said.  He'd barely been through the door five minutes.

"I get you to myself for more than a day!" 

"And you're scared to be alone with me for more than ten minutes?"

Kris bounced--some things never changed.  "Hey, I've gotta keep up with Adam Lambert!" he said.  "No Wii Bowling for us.  Only the best stuff in the city."

Adam looked over at the promised big-screen TV.  "You've still got a Wii?"  He finally saw it, a slim white tower crammed between a couple of other gaming systems and, hilariously, a Rock Band guitar.

"I go for the classics," Kris said. 

"How often do you play?"

"Every couple months, maybe?  Why?"

"I want to know how likely I am to beat you," Adam said.

"Depends if I let you win."

"Oh, it's _on_." Adam dived for the controller.

***

Kris flopped back against the couch and let the remote drop from his fingers.  "I didn't think you'd be that good."

"All the dancing I do, and you didn't think I'd be good with my body?"  Kris raised his eyebrows, and Adam laughed.  "Oh my God, you are so dirty!"

Kris shrugged.  "So, what do you think, pizza or Thai?"  Hadn't changed his eating habits much, apparently, and still managed to be thin enough to make Adam jealous.

"I was thinking I'd just make a salad," Adam said.  "I saw you had some lettuce--"

"Nope," Kris said.  "This is my birthday, and I say you can't worry about your weight."

"It's not your birthday until tomorrow."

"I know where you keep your hair stuff."

"Pizza sounds excellent," Adam said.

***

Kris got meat lover's pizza.  He pulled some PBR out of a mini-fridge--yes, Adam thought, the boy really did have a mini-fridge in his man-cave. His very neat man-cave with an entire wall of photographs of family, friends, and industry titans.  Kris sat down on the edge of the sofa to hand the beer to Adam, and fell off laughing at the look Adam gave him.  "I've got some Sam Adams in there too," he said.

"I can't stand the idea of _you_ drinking it either," Adam said.

"I'm not."  Kris picked himself up from the floor, brushed his jeans off, and dumped the can back in the cooler before grabbing two bottles and opening them with a bottle opener mounted on the wall.  Thank goodness Adam hadn't noticed that decorating touch until now, because it was going to haunt him.  "I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Adam took the beer.  "Just so I know," he said, "how good is the band going to be tonight?"

"That matters for dinner?"  Kris settled down on the floor against the wall, legs stretched out in front of Adam's perch on the couch.

"It matters for how much I'm going to drink," Adam said.

Kris grinned.  "I'd say just one, then?"

"Okay."  Adam took a bite of pizza.  "I kind of like this alcohol rating scale.  Where would you put me?"

"Hmmm."  Kris leaned his head back against the wall.  "Zero, I think."

"Why, Kristopher.  I'm flattered."

"They need to be able to drink during the show."

Adam nudged Kris's leg with his foot.    
   
"They could probably be pretty high, though," Kris said.  "I bet it makes the light shows _awesome_."  
   
"It does," Adam said.

Kris looked up at him, surprised, and Adam shrugged.

"Only while testing," he said.  "The roadies have the good stuff.  Haven't you noticed?"

"Oh yes," Kris said.  "But I have a wholesome image, you know.  No getting high near fans.  Some of us don't have lax PR."

"That thing about being flattered?  Maybe I take that back," Adam said.

"You like me anyway," Kris said.  He made a circle with his fingers around the beer bottle and wiped upwards--getting rid of the condensation, Adam could see, but it still looked...well.

"Guess so," Adam said.  "I mean, you got me to come to New York."

"I've put it on my list of accomplishments, right under making out with Gaga and right above my first Grammy."

"Making out with Gaga was more impressive than the Grammy?"

"The list goes the other direction. You beat Lady Gaga, but not that Grammy."  Kris reached up and grabbed a slice of pizza from the box on the end table.  "Why don't you like New York, anyway?"

"Oh, you know."  Adam took a sip of beer to avoid answering the question.

"Nope," Kris said.  

"I should've gone when I was younger," Adam said, "except I was doing okay in theatre in L.A., and I thought...when I'm a little better.  And then I did something else, but New York was always here, like...another path I could have taken."

Kris nodded solemnly, a nice feat when he had a mouthful of food.  He swallowed and said, "I think you're doing okay for yourself."

"I guess."  Adam smiled.  "I mean, how many people get to spend the night on the pullout couch of an American Idol?"

"You're a nut," Kris said, and kicked Adam's feet companionably.

"You like me anyway," Adam said.

"I feel like we had this conversation already," Kris said, "only the last one was better for my ego."

"We do need to prop that up," Adam said.  "I don't see a single pair of groupie panties around here, and even I get those."

"Maybe they think you'll wear them," Kris said.

"Now that's an image I needed in my life."

Kris looked up at him.  "Like you've never worn women's underwear?"

"What?" Adam said.

"You haven't?"  Kris looked surprised.

"Va-nil-la," Adam enunciated.

"Right," Kris said.  He took another bite of pizza.

After a pause, Adam said, "Also, they'd never fit my junk."

Kris snorted.  

"What, would they fit yours?"

"Nope.  Or at least Katy's wouldn't," Kris said.

Well, that certainly hadn't come up in conversation before.  Adam stared at him, and Kris just smiled.  "You'd better get to work on that beer if you want to be done before we head down to the bar," Kris said.

"I'm going to get my next boyfriend to move to New York," Adam said.  "This shit is weird."

***

The bouncer smiled at Kris and let them in without paying the cover charge.  Adam marched up to the bar and ordered two of the most ridiculously expensive cocktails he could find--Kris liked the place, Adam thought they could support it.  They had the money, after all.

"Do I want to know what that is?" Kris asked as Adam sat down next to him at a tiny table near a corner with a good view of the stage.  It seemed like a regular's table.  

"Your bar, you tell me," Adam said.  He took a sip of his--there was chocolate in it, so he was happy.

"I pretty much stick to the beer," Kris said.

Somebody pulled a chair out, flipped it around, and sat down, arms sprawled over the back.  Cute kind of twinky kid in a leather jacket with a shaved head, looked a little like Terrance.  He was young--maybe even younger than Kris when Adam had first met him.  Or maybe not; Adam didn't hang around with dewy-eyed twenty-three-year-olds any more.  Well, mostly.  "Yo, Allen," the kid said.  "Who's trying to murder you with Pete's crazy ideas of proper alcohol?"

"Adam Lambert," Kris said, "meet Will Pepper.  Will, Adam."

"Nice to meet you," Adam said, and stuck out his hand.

The guy shook it--no rings on his fingers, though he had plenty of metal in his ears.  He was pinging Adam's gaydar hard, though.  "Ah, Mr. Lambert," he said.  "I'm not sure I would have picked you as the chocolate martini kind."

"Gotta start out slow," he said.

"Right."  The guy looked up at the stage and back to Kris.  "One more day, huh?"

"You're not planning anything, are you?" Kris said.  He looked at the stage too.

"Not if you don't want me to," Will said, "but I'll demand payment later for my silence."

"Fine with me," Kris said.  "Will's the bassist for the band," he added to Adam.  

"Nice," Adam said.  "You play guitar too?"

"Yeah, but the bass is my first love," Will said.  "Which my boyfriend complains about all the time."

Adam nodded.  "Well, I expect some pretty awesome music tonight, Will," he said.  "Kris has been talking you up all day long."

Will brightened at that.  Adam's heart warmed to him.  Anyone who respected Kris's opinion got high marks in Adam's book.  "I'll try not to disappoint you," Will said, and he suddenly sounded really earnest.  Shit, these kids.

"And by the way, I'd be totally cool if you wanted to embarrass Kris horribly," Adam said.

Will grinned, and Kris looked worried.  "You wouldn't, would you?" he said.

"Depends," Will said.  "Will you play 'The Wind Beneath My Wings' during the party tomorrow?"

"Um," Kris said, clearly weighing the embarrassment of that versus the embarrassment of whatever Will had planned for the evening.

"Hey, Bette Midler?" Adam said.  "Man, we'll indoctrinate you in gay culture yet!"

"He's doing okay for a newbie," Will said approvingly.  "Although that particular cover was probably the fault of--Jerry?  Jack?  J-something else?"

Adam could feel himself go rigid.  A newbie?

"You know who it was," Kris said.

"Oh, the fabulous Tony." Will nodded.

"He was pretty fabulous," Kris said.  "Adam, you should ask Drake about him, I think he dated Tony for a while before I did."

That was a whole other level of _It's a Small Gay World After All_ beyond the one Adam was familiar with.  "Oh?" he said, in lieu of a stream of gibberish punctuated by swearing.

"Oh man, you guys still talk, right?" Kris said, worried. For entirely the wrong reasons.

"No, it's okay, we just don't always talk specifics." Speaking of specifics...

"He's going to be at the party tomorrow, right, Kris?" Will was either ignoring the tension or trying to break it.

"If he's in New York, he didn't know if he would be," Kris said.  "I try to stay friends with my exes."  He met Adam's eyes.  "Got that as good advice from a friend once."

A burly guy walked up and tapped Will on the shoulder, pointing at the stage.  Will smiled at them both and got up.  "Enjoy the show," he said as he walked off.

"What was that about?" Kris said when Will was gone, not about to leave it alone, apparently.

"Dating dudes?  That's new." Adam was trying to sound amused, but he was pretty sure he was failing. "You should have told me, I've been waiting for the toaster."

Kris frowned at him.  "Yeah, Adam, I've been dating guys since Katy and I broke it off.  That's not news."

"It is to me," Adam said.

"How can it--"

"Well, for one thing, you told me you weren't dating much."  Adam could feel the anger tight in his face, and he slammed the rest of the cocktail to give himself a moment to think.  Too bad it wasn't really suited for that, but he'd deal.  "And how was I supposed to know?  There's not a secret message system--shouldn't you know that by now?"

"Dude, calm _down_ ," Kris said. He'd leaned back and crossed his arms.  "It's been in the press.  I see Drake around all the time, and I know you guys talk."

"Sorry, there's not time in my life to read every article written about you!" Adam said.  "And since we weren't really talking--"

"Wonder why," Kris muttered.

"--I didn't ask Drake about you, and he didn't mention it," Adam said. 

Kris shrugged, tight and angry. "And nobody ever asked you about it in an interview?"

"Because I'm the go-to gay?"  Adam snorted.  "I haven't let anyone ask me about you since the rumors of the separation started."

"Why not?"

"Why do you think not?"

"Oh--"  Kris's eyes widened and he leaned forward.  "It wasn't you, Adam, you know that."

"I didn't think it was."

"No, really," Kris said.  "I'm not--I'm bi, okay?  And I knew that before Katy and I got married.  She knew it too.  You don't have to--"

"I don't," Adam said. Or at least he hadn't until just now. How had they gone this long without Kris telling Adam this?

"I was wondering why you hadn't mentioned it," Kris said.  "I thought--maybe, where we'd left things...you know."

"And you couldn't bring it up?" Adam said.  "I have to find out from a guy I've known for two minutes?"

"Dammit, Adam!" Kris's hands came down on the table, and Adam flinched.  "I'm not the one who stopped calling.  When was I supposed to tell you?"

"Oh, I don't know, sometime in the last eight hours?"

"I thought you knew!"  Kris's fingers were pressed hard into the table, white at the tips.

"Well, I didn't!"

"I figured that out!"

Adam glared.

"Sorry," Kris said grudgingly.  He looked at the stage and took a sip of his cocktail.

"Guess I should've called you more, huh," Adam said, and Kris's eyes flicked back and he smiled around the straw.

***

Kris was right, the diner was pretty great.  Adam got a mushroom and cheese omelet that might have been the best one he'd ever eaten, cholesterol be damned, and Kris ordered chocolate chip pancakes, thus proving to Adam that he really was five years old.

"You don't need to do any party prep?" Adam said.

"Nope," Kris said around a mouthful of food that had to be fifty percent maple syrup and fifty percent chocolate.  Adam hoped very devoutly that Kris's reaction to sugar had changed since the Temporary Tattoo Incident of August '09.  

"Who's--"

"Daniel," Kris said, and swallowed.

"Right," Adam said.  "Brothers.  Very useful."  Daniel Allen had been out on the town the day before; Adam had seen him slinking from the bathroom, halfway between drunk and hung over, when he and Kris had gotten back from the club.

Kris nodded and took a gulp of coffee.  "And it's not really, um, organization heavy?  We're just taking over the rooftop, getting the food catered, and we'll have a lot of amps and let people jam and hang out."

"Nice.  Then you can squire me all over New York for the day."  Flirting with a Kris who might actually mean it was a little strange, but also less stressful.

"Exactly."  Kris nodded.  "Adam Lambert on my arm, what more can a boy ask for?"

"Weirdo."

"That's my life."

"Do your parents know?" Adam said, suddenly.

Kris got his meaning immediately.  "Yeah. They met Tony, the one who liked Bette Midler."

"But that didn't work out?"

Kris shrugged.  "He wanted to act; I didn't want to move to Hollywood.  It wasn't a big thing."

"Yeah, I--"  Adam stopped.  "Tony Brunell?  Seriously?"

"The muscles are mostly new," Kris said.  "He was sort of more..."

"Twinky?"

"Yeah," Kris said.  "Twinky.  Okay."

"Weird," Adam said.  "I hit on him at a party at St Felix, actually, but he said I wasn't his type."

"He doesn't like guys who lose at Wii Bowling," Kris said very seriously.

Adam took another bite of his omelet to decide if he really wanted to ask the question he was going to ask.  Well, no guts, no glory.  "He was your type, though?"

Kris shrugged.  "I don't know if I have a type. Not--that way, anyway."

"There are other kinds of types?"

"Um." Kris was suddenly very busy with his pancakes.  "More like personality."

"Ah," Adam said.  "Yeah, Tony's pretty toppy for a tiny guy."

Kris blushed bright red and Adam suddenly realized what he'd said.  He waited to see if Kris would say something, but he didn't.

"I just always thought I'd be the one, if you ever figured out you weren't straight," Adam said finally.

Kris raised his eyebrows.  "Figured out?"

"Uh."  Adam smiled, guilty.  "You paid too much attention to me.  Straight guys don't do that."

"And here I thought I was going to get deets on gaydar."

Adam laughed.  "I think 'deets' went out a couple of years ago, you dork."

"Anyway..."  Kris pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate with a fork.  "I guess I didn't think I was good enough for you.  You know?"

"You won the fucking show!"  And practically lived with him for nine months.

Kris half-smiled. "Yeah, but I needed some time to figure it out.  The gay thing, I mean.  And you...that's hard when you're here."

"My cock turns plenty of guys gay," Adam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I just mean, it's hard to be that unsure of who I am when you're right there being you, like, all the time."

"Oh," Adam said.  He smiled wryly.  "Um, sorry about that."

"Don't do that," Kris said.  "That's a compliment.  I mean, your personality is like...a force of nature."

"You don't have to be like that, though," Adam said.  "I like you just how you are."  And even across all these years, across all the silence between them, it was always true.

***

Kris's band members showed up right when the party was supposed to start and took charge of the equipment.  One whole end of the roof was devoted to chairs, amps, a couple of keyboards, and one grand piano--Adam decided not to ask how they'd gotten it up there.  The band jammed aimlessly while Kris and Adam helped Daniel unload the last of the beer from a hand cart. 

A conservatively-dressed woman with chin-length blonde hair stepped out of the stairwell, and Adam tensed before he remembered that he had to be jealous of everyone around Kris now, not just tiny blonde pixie women. 

"Happy birthday, Allen!" she said as she walked up.

"Hey, Jen," Kris said.  The woman smiled at him and ducked behind the bar.  "This is Adam, by the way."

"No kidding," she said, grinning.  "Jennifer Taver.  Nice to meet you."

"You too," Adam said.  "You bartending?"

She nodded.  "And handling the food."

"Two for one, nice," Adam said. 

"Plus, I get to hang out with rock stars."  She'd been checking the bottles and taps, and now, apparently satisfied, she leaned forward.  "Can I get you something?"

"Vodka martini would be great."

"Sure thing." 

Chris started up the bass line to "Come Together," and Kris shot off like a rocket across the rooftop to sing.  Adam pulled up a stool nearby to watch.

Kris still moved like the music was fucking him, which was a little disconcerting--Adam had always wondered if that would change if Kris started having sex with men, but apparently not.  His television performances were more restrained, so Adam usually didn't get to see this kind of abandon. It had been a while since he'd been able to make it to one of Kris's shows.  Though, thinking of the time line, at least one of them was probably after Kris had discovered his non-heterosexual side, only Adam hadn't known about it.

That wasn't a good thought; now Adam was going back through every interaction they had at Kris's last concert, trying to figure out if anything was different.  But they hadn't really had a chance to catch up.  They fell into such an easy pattern whenever they got together that Adam sometimes forgot they didn't have all the time in the world.  Small talk for a few minutes, go over the show itself, and then they'd be rushed out to some event or other.  Spending the last day and a half together was probably more visiting time in person than they'd had since Kris's divorce.

Somebody pulled up the stool next to Adam's, and he turned to see Will.  "Think he looks like that during sex?" he said.

"I was just wondering the same thing," Adam said.  A little familiar for a new acquaintance, but Will seemed harmless.

Will grinned.  "You're one to talk, by the way."

Adam laughed.  "No, that's _definitely_ what I look like when I'm having sex.  I don't think anyone's in the dark about that."

Will raised his beer bottle in a toast.

"You gonna join them?" Adam said.

"When Chris takes a break," Will said.  "Didn't bring a bass, and Kris's guitar collection leaves a little to be desired in the four-string family.  You gonna sing?"

"Of course!" Adam said.

"Good. Anything I should be prepared to play?"

"Whatever you like, I'm easy." Adam winked.  He couldn't help it.

"Really," Will said.

"Leave the poor boy alone," a familiar voice said, and Adam turned to grin as Drake hugged him awkwardly around the neck.

"Hi!  Oh my God it's good to see you."

"You too," Drake said.  "You remember Patrick."

"Hey," Adam said.  He reached out to shake the guy's hand.  

"Hi," Patrick said.

Will stood up and nodded to them as he walked off, giving them some room.  Patrick took the stool and Drake balanced on his knee.  

"How's the visit?" Drake said.  "Should I be offended you didn't ask to see me?"

"I was otherwise occupied," Adam said, and Drake laughed.  "It's his thirtieth and he wanted me here, what was I going to do?"

"No, it's fine, I  understand."

"I'm glad I get to see you now, though!" Adam said.  "I heard your last show was really great.  I'm sorry I didn't get to see it."

Drake grinned, and Patrick grinned wider.  "He got a great review in The Village Voice," Patrick said.  "And he's been asked to teach a workshop at FIT."

"Good for you!" Adam said.  "I'm really glad to hear it."

"Are you going to be coming back often? I'm doing a series of extreme close-ups and I could do one of your eyes."  Somehow Drake didn't make that a come-on--dedication to the work, Adam supposed.

"Um," Adam said.  "I could make it back here if you wanted to paint me, I guess?  If you wanted me to."

"Well, yeah." Drake frowned a little like he was confused.  "Or I could do one of your tattoos?"

"Or his cock," Patrick said dryly.  "Dunno how you've managed to avoid pictures so far, Adam, but--"

"Oh no, baby, any close-up cocks will be pictures of you." Drake patted Patrick's thigh fondly.

"I don't think you could get it all in a close-up," Patrick said.

Drake laughed, and Adam grabbed his martini to take another drink.

On stage, Kris and the band worked out a final jammed chord and talked amongst themselves, finally starting up again with "Alright With Me."  Adam watched Kris's fingers on the fret board a little.  He never got enough credit for his musicianship, Adam thought, or at least he hadn't when Adam still read most of his press.  Weird to think about those days now.  Were journalists still mentioning that Adam was Kris's runner-up on the show?

"Is Kris coming out to L.A. a lot these days?" Drake asked.

"I'm not sure," Adam said, still watching the band.  "He mostly records out here.  I saw him at a pre-Grammys party, that's when he asked me to come out here, but other than that..."

"Hmmm," Drake said.

"But maybe we'll try to get together more often now.”  It was true.  It felt weird, maybe a little uncomfortable, but also...settled and right.  All the unfinished business, finally coming to a close.

"Ah," Drake said, and nodded like he'd figured out whatever it was.

***

Adam took a deep drink from his water glass, rehydrating after his turn singing.  The dance floor had picked up quite a bit in the last few minutes, which Adam was totally going to take credit for.  Drake and Patrick were closest to Adam, a striking picture in neon purple and lime green, Drake's fingers wrapped in Patrick's long hair.  Kris and Jen were farther away, dancing close to the band.

It was a weird bit of deja vu for Adam.  Almost like Kris and Katy dancing, the few times they'd all been somewhere that required it: Katy had never been much for PDA, which hadn't helped all the rumors around the divorce.  Although Adam had to admit, Kris was a better dancer now than he'd been back then: he had moves other than the kangaroo bounce and the prom-style sway.  Maybe only one or two, but still, they were moves.

The party was bigger than Adam had expected, though not big by his usual standards.  But they were high enough that it seemed like a small gathering, a fairy-lit wonderland in the middle of the city, far away from normal life.  Where time was suspended, where music was all you needed to stay alive, where a relationship with Kris was a possibility.

On the dance floor, Kris spun Jen in a surprisingly adept move, then bowed to the band.  There was a smattering of applause--Adam wondered if Kris's dancing was quite that legendary.  And then he was walking over to Adam and holding out his hands.

"I'm too old for this," Adam complained as Kris dragged him to the center of the floor.

"Shut it, Lambert, it's my birthday," Kris said, and then went for the prom sway--nice to know some things didn't change. Adam couldn't tell if Kris had to be on his toes to reach Adam's neck, but they were comfortably touching most of the lengths of their bodies.  Then the band started up with "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You."  Well, if anything was going to ruin the image of this night as a magical wonderland...

"What, no fancy spins?" Adam asked.  His hands found their way onto Kris's waist.

"Don't press your luck," Kris said.  He turned his head so it was resting on Adam's chest.  Okay. No talking.

It felt a little surreal to be dancing like this, regardless of who he was with, so Adam just went with it.  After a minute or so, he moved his hand up and skritched the back of Kris's head, which surprised a laugh out of him.  He pulled back to look up at Adam's face.  "I don't think that's proper dancing etiquette," he said.

"If we're going for etiquette, you were supposed to ask me.  I liked the mime, though."

"Body language?" Kris grinned, cheeky.

"Sure," Adam said indulgently, and Kris laid his head back against his chest.

Drake was watching them, looking amused, but it looked like most of the dancers were ignoring them--whether out of privacy or boredom, Adam couldn't say.  But it was, actually, sort of nice.  If ridiculous.  Definitely ridiculous.

Kris said, "This feels like prom."

"You just noticed?" Adam said softly.

"I think it's the band."

You just keep on thinking that, Adam thought.  "Better than my prom," he said.  "None of the boys would dance with me at all."

"Did you ask any of them?"

"Nope."

"That's probably why," Kris said.

The band hit the last chord of the song, and Kris dropped his hands from Adam's neck.  Adam stepped back, figuring Kris was looking for his next partner, but then Kris grabbed Adam's hand and spun around awkwardly.  "There's your twirl!" he said with a small grin.  He wandered over to a woman Adam didn't know and held out his hand as the band started playing Britney Spears.

Adam made his way to Drake, who had stepped off the dance floor and was nursing yet another of Jen's excellent cocktails near the edge of the roof.  "Did we lose Patrick?" he said.

"He's over there somewhere," Drake said, gesturing at a little mixed-gender crowd of art student types.  

Adam nodded and leaned the railing.  "This is totally not what I expected from a Kris Allen birthday party," he said.

"Not enough fried chicken?" Drake said.  "Really, Adam, you need to get over your stereotypes."

Adam felt his eyes widen.  "This was _not enough fried chicken_?" he said, waving his arm at the trash bin full of the Chik-Fil-A boxes that had arrived an hour into the party.

Drake busted up laughing.

"Well, Mr Southern Boy," Adam said when he thought Drake could hear him again, "I meant, it's a whole little...like...half-queer hippie artist community.  A bunch of people who make music like he does, who respect his art, and he's got all these young kids he seems to mentor."

"Gosh, Adam, it's almost like he's trying to be you.  How weird."

"You think so?" Adam said.  

Drake rolled his eyes.

"I mean, I don't have that many younger--"

"You keep saying that," Drake said. "How is Allison doing for herself these days, by the way?"

"Or you, Mr Fancy Artist Pants," Adam said.

"My talent has absolutely nothing to do with you," Drake said, "or with my pants, though I agree that they are fabulous."

"I should come back sometime," Adam said.  "You can show me all the good boutiques."

"I would be very happy to," Drake said.  "And you should definitely come back."

***

Kris's beer bottle made a soft fizzy snick in the night air, quiet now that the guests were gone.  "Do you like the new record?" he asked. "I'm finally writing songs that aren't about breakups, can you believe it?"

"Hardly," Adam said.

"Especially since I've had so many more breakups now than I did when I wrote the first album.  But I guess Katy was a big one, and then there was the move to New York and losing track of people..."  He trailed off and looked at Adam expectantly.

"Yeah, way to move away from all of us," Adam said, smiling.  "I had to take a red-eye to see you!"

"You didn't take the red-eye," Kris said.

"I thought about it!"

Kris took a swig of the beer, waving to Jen as she and Daniel took the last load of liquor to the staircase.  Adam had been helping, but Kris had claimed him on the last trip up, which Adam really wasn't going to complain about.

"I'm really glad you came," Kris said.

"I'm glad I did too."

Adam leaned his head back and looked up.  He could only see a few stars scattered in the bright city haze.  He tried to figure out if it was worse or better than the light pollution in L.A.

"What do the stars say?" Kris said beside him.

Adam blinked slowly--he was used to staying up late, but not on days as busy as this one was.  "I don't know," he said.  "You got a newspaper lying around anywhere? I could read your horoscope."

"Nope," Kris said.

After a pause, Adam said, "I do really like the record, though."

"Good," Kris said.  

"And you're touring it later in the summer?"

"Starting in August," Kris said.  "And I'll be in L.A. for a couple of weeks next month, getting some planning work done."

Adam nodded.  "You need a place to stay?" he said, and immediately felt ridiculous--two weeks for business, of course he did.

"Nope," Kris said. Adam's heart beat faster in his chest.  "But you better keep some time open to see me anyway."

"Done," Adam said.

They sat a few minutes more in silence.  Finally, Adam pushed himself up from the chair.  He thought he knew where this night was going, but it had to be Kris's move.  He said, "I think I need to make up that pullout again."

Kris grinned.  "Were you planning on sleeping on the pullout?"

Adam met Kris's eyes.  "I guess not, huh."

"Good answer," Kris said.

***

Adam woke up first. That was kind of surprising, since he was still on California time, but it gave him a chance to look at Kris's face where it was smushed into a pillow.  He was going to have funny creases on his cheek when he woke up.  Adam had never really gotten a chance to watch him sleep when they were roommates. Kris had been the early riser, awake enough to laugh at Adam when Adam had walked into a doorjamb instead of through the door.

Adam was happy enough to stay cocooned under Kris's surprisingly tasteful comforter for a few minutes more.  He wasn't sure when they'd managed to pull the comforter back up--it had gotten knocked off pretty early in the activities the night before--but now he was glad of it.

After ten minutes or so, Kris snuffled and opened his eyes.

"Morning," Adam said.

Kris blinked at him, bleary.  "Oh man, I'm thirty," he said.  His voice was gravelly.

"That's what you're going to focus on?"

"I've seen you in the mornings.  Your hair doesn't scare me."

"Well, I've smelled your breath in the mornings," Adam said, "so if one of us is going to be scared..."

Kris leaned over and breathed in Adam's face.

Adam laughed, trying to push him away.  "Oh, gross!  Get off, get off!"  The pushing devolved into lazy making out, and Adam was just starting to feel like a morning quickie when Kris rolled away, muttering something about coffee.  He grabbed a pair of boxers and went into the bathroom.

Adam rolled over and stared up at the ceiling.  This no longer felt like a fairy tale, the way the evening before had; instead, it was a settled kind of comfort, like they'd been doing this for years.

The toiled flushed, and a few moments later Kris's head poked around the doorjamb. "Coffee in five minutes," he said, then disappeared again.

Adam decided to be a lazy ass and wait until it was done before he dragged himself out of Kris's entirely too comfortable and Kris-smelling bed.  Pretty soon he could hear the Kris getting the cups out, though, so he had to get up.  His clean laundry was all in the living room next to the pullout, so he pulled on his briefs and T-shirt from the night before and stumbled his way past the guest room where Daniel was still snoring and into the kitchen.  Kris wasn't there, but the coffee was, and Adam poured himself a cup before he joined Kris on the couch in the living room. Kris was sipping from a mug and staring out the window.

"You're not going to disappear again, are you?" Kris said.

"No!" Adam said, surprised, and Kris looked doubtful. 

"I mean it," Kris said.  "You're not going to start answering my texts a couple of weeks late, never following through on making plans, all that shit?"

"No, of course not," Adam said.

"Because I really don't want you to do that," Kris said.

"I won't.  It was just--"  Kris looked at him, expectant.  Adam took a deep breath and let it out.  "It was too hard when I knew I couldn't have you, and you were perfect for me, and except for the whole married thing pretty much acted like you wanted me to fuck your brains out."

"I wanted you to," Kris said.  "But I couldn't."

"I know," Adam said.

"But we work as friends, too. You shouldn't have given that up because you couldn't have this."

"I know."

"It was an asshole move," Kris said.

"I know," Adam said again.  Kris looked like he wanted to cave and make it better, but Adam knew he wouldn't.  Tiny, tenacious little puppy dog.  "I'll be better.  I will. I can't make up five years, but I'll be better this time."

"Good," Kris said, "because let me tell you, my band can totally kick your band's ass.  And we wouldn't want it to come to that."

Adam breathed out, hard, and let his head fall on Kris's shoulder.  Kris kissed his cheek. 

After a moment, Adam said in a small voice, "But I have dancers.  They'd help."

Kris laughed.  Adam grabbed him and pulled them both horizontal on the couch so Kris was lying on Adam's stomach.

"But we're going to be more than friends now, right?" Adam said.

"I think that was the point of this weekend." Kris reached up and ran his hand through Adam's hair.

"Good, because I have some thoughts on how to make it up to you," Adam said.

Kris smiled down at him.  "I think that's a very good idea."


End file.
